


phase shift

by nickofhearts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-19 02:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickofhearts/pseuds/nickofhearts
Summary: Some things are better left in the past. Unfortunately for Noctis, they don'tstaythere.





	1. way hey and up she rises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamingcicadas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingcicadas/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis is a cute little lamb.

He's losing time. 

It's just little things at first: people looking at him strangely like he's said something out of character when Noctis doesn't even remember starting a conversation, or he'll have an empty salad bowl in front of him and Ignis commending him for finally watching what he puts in his body when Noctis _knows_ he'd been craving a burger just minutes before, but then Noctis snaps awake somewhere outside the Citadel, a street he's never _been,_ and it's not something he can just brush off anymore.

Is he . . . going crazy?

Noctis walks down the lane, looking for something he recognizes, but then there's another _shift,_ like the earth moving under his feet, and he's back at home in bed, changed into his pajamas already.

"Shit," Noctis mutters, " _shit._ "

He clutches at the bedsheets, heart pounding in his chest. 

He should—he should _get help,_ Noctis thinks, wondering if Ignis might have any idea of what's going on, or if he should go straight to his father? This must have something to do with the magic in his blood, some affliction of the Lucian line that he would've known about if he'd paid more attention to Ignis' lessons? 

Noctis shakes his head, trying to clear it.

Before he can reach for his phone and make a call, he feels his eyelids get heavy, like he can't even control it, and then he's falling into sleep, too deep for anyone to help him.

-

"You really _are_ a sad little lamb, aren't you?" a boy wearing Noctis' same exact face asks him, twirling a silver knife through his fingers. 

Noctis watches the movement of the knife and feels himself getting dizzy, thoughts sticking together like molasses. Is he—dreaming? He's still in bed, but the room is _off_ somehow, the shadows too dark and the light coming in through the window not reaching where it should.

The knife flashes before his face, and Noctis looks back at the boy that could pass for his twin.

"Are you just going to let them offer you up?" he sneers.

Noctis . . . doesn't know what he's talking about it.

" _Exactly,_ " the doppelganger agrees with heavy emphasis. "You don't even _know._ " He sighs, shaking his head like there's no help for someone like Noctis.

But, "I _have_ been helping," he disagrees, still twirling the knife between his fingers. 

Noctis looks away before it can make him dizzy again.

"I've been stepping in here and there," the boy's saying, looking pleased when Noctis' eyes light up in understanding. "I've been _standing up_ for you, Noctis," he purrs, sitting himself down on the bed and moving to take Noctis' chin in hand. "Since you won't do it for _yourself._ "

"I don't—"

"You don't care? You don't need anyone looking out for you? You don't know when people are talking behind your back, _disrespecting_ you?" His double's eyelashes flutter, and Noctis feels frozen in place as he closes the last few inches between them, his mouth suddenly against Noctis', warm wet heat and the velvet touch of his tongue to Noctis' lips.

Noctis doesn't know what's happening—

"Shh, shh," the other tells him, and Noctis feels all his worries sliding away like someone's— _pushing_ —them down. Why is he struggling? Isn't it comfortable here? He should just sleep until everything's been taken care of. 

Noctis feels his eyes falling closed again, but isn't he already dreaming?

The last thing Noctis is aware of is his doppelganger smiling, the expression unlike any _Noctis_ has ever made, moving in to kiss him again. 

-

Noctis wakes up, and he's sitting on the throne. 

"What—"

"Ah, _there_ you are, Noctis." His double smiles, too sweet for the carnage that surrounds them. There are _bodies_ hanging from the ceiling. Noctis is afraid to look too closely, lest he _recognize_ any of them.

"This is a dream," Noctis says. He holds his hand in front of his face, clenching it into a fist. "Wake up, wake up, wake up."

Nothing happens.

His doppelganger laughs. "You aren't _dreaming,_ Noctis. Though you have been, for a long time." The knife is back in his hand, twisting through his fingers like a silver snake. "I never _did_ tell you my name, did I? I'm not a figment of your imagination, nor some fever-induced hallucination, though that was a fun little game, wasn't it?" He tilts his head coyly at Noctis, still smiling.

Noctis stares back, a sinking feeling in his stomach like some horrible revelation is about to befall him.

"It won't mean much to you, with the little understanding you have," the boy says as he moves in, pressing the sharp edge of his knife to Noctis' throat; not hard enough to break skin, just enough that Noctis _feels_ it—

"I'm _Izunia._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dreamingcicadas: I FEEL AWFUL FOR NOCTIS  
> dreamingcicadas: HIS BODY IS SNATCHED  
> nickofhearts: I'M SURE IZUNIA WILL GIVE IT BACK???  
> nickofhearts: ONCE HE'S MADE ONE OF HIS OWN  
> nickofhearts: i mean, it'd be boring without someone around to appreciate his schemes right  
> nickofhearts: and noctis might be dumb, but he _is_ pretty  
>  nickofhearts: singularly pretty  
> nickofhearts: the prettiest in all the world  
> dreamingcicadas: COUGHS  
> dreamingcicadas: YOU MEAN  
> dreamingcicadas: IZUNIA FINDS _HIMSELF_ PRETTY  
>  nickofhearts: Y U P


	2. early in the morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In many ways, so is Ardyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i really going to rewrite the whole game for fucking izunia? the answer is yes. yes, i am.

Izunia stretches out his arms, testing their tensile strength and tacticity. Well. They're not _his_ arms per se, but he's got dominion over them for the time being, since he coaxed Noctis into giving up control.

What a pretty, sweet, thing Noctis is.

Of all the descendants of his line, Izunia would have to say that Noctis is his favourite amongst them.

Largely because he takes after Izunia the most out of any of the generations—a hilarious quirk of fate?—but also because he's just so _naive._ Not a particularly desirable quality for a _king,_ but a fun little tidbit for Izunia.

He tilts his face back and forth in the mirror, examining his new frame.

Noctis is quite a few years younger than Izunia had been when he'd _died_ —his lip curls in a sneer as he remembers Ardyn sinking a sword into him—but that's fine too. No one will see him coming.

Not even _Ardyn._

-

Noctis' eclectic little collection of . . . _friends_ (and isn't it sad that two of his three only friends are his bloodline ordained shield and his appointed advisor?) don't notice anything amiss, but that's no real difficulty at all. The Argentum boy might've been harder to convince, if he weren't so _desperate_ for Noctis' attention that one or two glancing touches that step over the line of appropriateness and a heated look from under Izunia's lashes throw him so far off that he's in a spiral of confused self-doubt. Is he or isn't he imagining his best friend's interest in a more than _friendly_ manner?

The real test however, comes when they reach Galdin Quay and Ardyn himself is there to greet them.

Izunia blanks his face immediately to rein in the laughter that almost bursts forth. Oh, but his darling _is_ concerned over the nigh culmination of his plans.

Izunia nearly coos at him, it's so _cute._

Instead, he affects Noctis' usual bewildered state and bizarrely out-of-touch connection to the happenings around him. Ardyn frowns at him briefly, a slight slip of an expression that's almost instantly replaced with an unaffected smirk, but it's enough for Izunia's discerning eye to catch.

His darling _does_ remember him.

-

Izunia's forgotten how _tedious_ the common folk can be, not having had to interact with them for over two thousand years. He's just about to plant a sword directly in this Dino's gut when Ignis advises caution.

"You're right," Izunia answers him, smiling Noctis' hapless little smile.

He'll return _later_ to ensure that Dino doesn't trouble him again.

-

("If it ain't the high and mighty Prince Noctis—" is all Dino gets out before Izunia places a hand on his chest and materializes a sword _within_ the confines of his flesh. It's a messy way to kill, and unnecessarily painful as one's body desperately tries to reconcile the length of steel that's embedded within its organs. It _is_ however, quite convenient, for Izunia at least, who has perfected the art of materializing a sword just _so,_ to lodge the hilt of the weapon in their throat and cut off any unwarranted screaming that may wish to leave their lips.

Izunia sighs in contented satisfaction as Dino gurgles blood, on his knees and clawing at his chest while he attempts to cough up the intrusion in his body.

He has _so_ missed that look of shock and terror on a person's face as they slowly come to realize there is naught in the world that shall save them from his tender mercies.

"No more wise words from _you,_ " Izunia murmurs, pressing a single finger to Dino's lips in the universal gesture for silence.

He disposes of the body in a nearby daemon nest that he'd noted earlier in the day for this exact purpose. By dawn, there'll be nothing left of the over-presumptuous reporter save for a collection of gnawed-clean bones. 

_Pity there's no market for_ your _remains,_ Izunia laughs as he picks his way delicately back to camp.)

-

In some ways, Eos has changed much in the time he's been away, and in others, not at all. Izunia prefers driving to chocobo riding, both for the expediency of it, but also for the feel of the car's power at his fingertips, gunning the pedal to _maximum._

" _Whoa,_ Noct!" Prompto shouts when he swerves the car almost 180 degrees, braking it perfectly within the lines of the parking spot.

"Some— _restraint_ would not be amiss, your highness," Ignis adds, his voice strained to the tension of a tightened wire.

"Don't you trust me?" Izunia asks them with a brilliantly glowing smile. He glances at Gladio, the only one who seems unperturbed by his driving techniques.

Gladio shrugs, snapping his book closed. "You seem to have it handled."

"Damn _right,_ " Izunia confirms, at one with Noctis in this one pleasurable excess.

-

Izunia puts on a pretense of distrustful irritation whence Ardyn ambushes the party again, but he is oh _so_ pleased. Ardyn is his masterpiece, after all, an artwork of callous brushstrokes and broken promises, aged through centuries. Izunia wants to pick at all his cracks and see exactly how much it will take to break him open again.

But, he waits. He watches. He examines each sly curve of Ardyn's smiles now and finds _himself_ in them.

It warms him to the bone.

-

Izunia dangles his feet off the roof of the caravan and lets the smoke of the cigarettes he'd bullied Prompto into buying for him curl in his mouth. People are so malleable, like clay dolls. A push here, a tug there—Izunia has always found it easy to bend them to his will.

He counts slowly to ten, closing his eyes to give the appearance of deep contemplation. When he opens them again, Ardyn is at his side, as if summoned.

"What—" Izunia stutters out, feigning shocked surprise. He lets the cigarette drop from his fingers. 

Ardyn catches it, of course, taking his own slow drag. An indirect kiss. 

Izunia feels his blood heat just from the proximity. He remembers early morning exuberances, riding Ardyn until he _screamed,_ thighs sticky with the evidence of their pleasures. That'd been a lifetime ago, separated by betrayal upon betrayal and then _death._

Izunia casts his gaze down, letting himself shiver in the nighttime chill. A touch here, a pull there. 

Ardyn's fingers reach out and tip his face up again, and Izunia allows himself to be drawn in. "Let _me,_ " Ardyn murmurs, that deep smoky voice that Izunia remembers had gone hoarse with screaming, pleading for Izunia to _save_ him. He hears it echoing in his dreams, more intimate than a lover's caress.

He imagines smiling, but it's too early to give the game up. 

"I've never—" Izunia breathes out, a secret superficially true. _Noctis_ has never, at least outside of his dreams of Izunia.

" _My,_ prince, how sheltered you _are._ " 

Izunia shivers again, as if it's involuntary, as if he can't resist Ardyn's detestable charms. He puts up a token protest that lasts until Ardyn's stroking a thumb over the arch of his cheekbone, and a startled gasp escapes him like he's never been touched with the kind of intent Ardyn proposes. 

"The life of a prince must be so very _lonely,_ " Ardyn purrs, moving ever closer, a circling predator waiting for the precise moment to strike.

Izunia imagines Ardyn's honeyed voice rolling over him like a towering wave, that there's no escape from the promises it's making. He lifts a hand up to hold it hovering over Ardyn's, still tracing over the planes of Izunia's perfectly crafted face, as if he can't make a decision between pushing it away and pulling Ardyn in further—

"Oh, _Noct,_ " Ardyn chides. He takes the decision from Izunia's grasp as he finally closes the distance to _kiss_ him.

Izunia doesn't have to pretend falling into it, the desperate need he has to be touched. It _has_ been a long time, and Ardyn knows him better than all others. He wonders between kisses and Ardyn coaxing him out of his shirt whether he realizes he's touching _Noctis_ like he used to touch Izunia, falling into old patterns, treading familiar ground. Or perhaps it's only that everyone Ardyn's touched _since,_ he sees Izunia in each one of them. A warm possessiveness curls in him at the thought.

"Oh, _Ardyn,_ " he imagines whispering in return. "You _have_ missed me, haven't you?"

Instead, he plays at coy helplessness, squirming at Ardyn easing a slick finger into him. His breath hitches, a broken moan filtering out of his mouth. He bites at the lapel of Ardyn's coat when Ardyn shushes him, reminding him of the _inhabitants_ of the caravan just beneath them. 

"You wouldn't want one of your friends to come and see what the _commotion_ is, would you, dear prince?"

Izunia has to hide his face against Ardyn's neck; he's never been able to feign a blush. He shifts to rubbing it against the silk of Ardyn's hideous scarf, as if it's what he meant to do all along. 

Ardyn chuckles as he adds a second finger, hand on Izunia's hip balancing him when he widens his legs to make room.

"Please," Izunia gasps out, "please, _Ardyn—_ " 

Izunia knows he isn't imagining the stutter in Ardyn's movements at his name being whimpered in Izunia's voice, that they're both reliving the past in this one moment. He wonders if Ardyn's thinks he's chasing _ghosts,_ if Izunia haunts his nightly dreams.

He _yearns_ for it to be true, if only so he can laugh at Ardyn at the conclusion of the game. 

Ardyn yanks him forward, impatient suddenly. His grip has turned bruising, his kisses biting.

Izunia muffles a scream into the ugly collar of Ardyn's shirt when Ardyn makes him take his cock. It's the only part of the charade he's never had to force—how _good_ Ardyn's cock feels inside him, perfectly molded for his pleasure. Izunia clings tight to Ardyn's shoulders and lets himself be moved. He gasps each time Ardyn drags him up by the hips and lets him fall again, clutching harder on every downstroke.

" _Can't,_ " Izunia pants. He _needs,_ and he knows Ardyn won't deny him, never has.

Ardyn presses a kiss to Izunia's mouth, the curve of his smile sharp, reeking of _triumph._ He closes a hand obligingly around Izunia's cock.

"I am but at your _behest,_ " he whispers sweetly into the space between them, giving Izunia exactly his desire.

The pleasure that runs like a river through his veins is only an afterthought to the _euphoria_ that threatens to overtake him. _If only you knew,_ Izunia thinks of murmuring mockingly into Ardyn's ear, digging his teeth into the lobe of it like he's done so many times before.

He curls up lazily in Ardyn's arms, letting him find his own pleasure. 

The game is _already_ his.


	3. stuff him in a sack and throw him over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The choices we make.

"You didn't come in last night," Ignis comments after breakfast. He's discreet enough to do it while the others are busy packing up the car, but _not_ discreet enough to keep his observations to himself. 

"I uh—" Izunia prevaricates, purposefully awkward. 

He rubs at his arms, drawing attention to the darkening bruises on his skin. "It's fine," he says too-quickly, looking away when Ignis tries to meet his eyes.

" _Ardyn_ didn't come in either."

Izunia picks at the bracer on his left wrist, wondering how long Ignis intends on dragging out this painfully one-sided conversation. "Mmhmm," he neither confirms nor denies. 

"Did he—" Ignis stops, clearly unsure how to ask the question.

Izunia is tempted to make him spell it out, but he's also quickly boring of the entire conversation. " _No,_ " he hisses in a whisper, glancing around like he's afraid of being overheard. "It wasn't like that. It was just—a thing." He pulls on the daftest expression he's ever seen Noctis make with this face. "A thing that _won't_ happen again, okay?"

Ignis still looks dubious, but also like he's not sure what he can do about it.

"Please Iggy," Izunia tries, putting a hand on his arm. "Don't tell the others?" He shrugs his shoulders then hunches them in on himself, pretending shame. "I just—it's been hard, you know? Ardyn was _there,_ and I—" He makes a random motion with his hand. "It won't happen again, _trust me._ " He offers Ignis a shy smile.

"Fine, Noct, but please remember to be _careful._ "

"Got it, _mom,_ " Izunia answers with an eyeroll and gets out of there before Ignis tries to force some _condoms_ onto him, or gods forbid, something even _more_ troublesome.

-

Izunia avoids looking at or acknowledging Ardyn in any manner when he sends them off at Titan's Disc. He shoves his hands in his pockets in the awkwardest of ways and scuffs a boot on the floor as he waits for Noctis' retainers to make ready. He can tell it's both irritating and flattering Ardyn that Izunia appears to be ashamed or _embarrassed_ about the whole sordid affair, and quells the laughter rising in his throat. 

Ardyn _has_ always so hated being ignored.

-

The Archean is as magnificent as a painting, even more glorious up close than rendered lovingly on parchment. Izunia marvels that such things exist in the world, whose whims and fancies change the very _shape_ of Eos.

It's a pity that this particular Astral's long-held duty seems to have driven him _mad._

Izunia dodges out of the way of one of his lumbering fists and considers the matter. "Wait," he says to Gladio before he moves in to attack again, holding out an arm for the shield to stay himself. "I've got this."

Izunia opens his mouth—and he _sings._

It's not the Oracle's song, but it's in the old speech, and Titan pauses in his attacks to listen.

 _Let me take your burden,_ Izunia soothes him, holding forth his hands. _Bequeath unto the King of Kings your power, so that I may be the light in the coming darkness._ Izunia has no pressing need to fling himself onto a funeral pyre for the good of all, but the _Astrals_ cannot discern lies. If they _could_ have read minds, Izunia would never have been granted the powers of the Crystal. 

Titan regards Izunia before him, who must seem a mere speck to the god, and he _roars._

"Uh, Noct?" Prompto calls out from his back. "I don't want to rain on your parade, buddy, but that seems to have made him _madder._ "

" _Hold,_ " Izunia commands. 

He waits, and he is _rewarded_ for his patience. 

Titan strains one last time against the Disc that was his given duty, and then he fades into power swirling golden in the air. Izunia _screams_ when it touches him, lingering on his skin before it seeps into the core of his very being. Not because it hurts, but because it is _all_ he's ever dreamed of.

-

Izunia wakes in a room that is wholly unfamiliar to him, surrounded on all sides by walls that appear themselves to be made of metal.

"Wha—" he asks, throat dry.

Ignis hands him a glass of water, and he drinks greedily. He drains two more glasses before his parched throat is anywhere near satisfied.

"Where did you learn that song?" Ardyn asks from where he's stood leaning against the door. He doesn't seem enraged, so he must not have guessed at the truth, or is perhaps deliberately blinding himself to the evidence.

". . . in a dream," Izunia answers after a minute. He makes himself look awed. "I think—Luna came to me? I _felt_ her."

It amuses him that Ardyn has at last learned to lie, perhaps as skillfully as Izunia himself, but he still cannot read the untruths off Izunia's exquisite face. Izunia casts his gaze downwards and regards his two hands. They are the same as before, yet now they hold within them Titan's might.

-

"I'm going for a walk," he declares a few hours in. The power has settled in his veins at last, thick and rich and decadent, and he feels hungry for an _outlet._ Izunia throws his legs over the side of the bed and starts lacing his boots back up. 

"I'll go with you!" Prompto volunteers, bouncing to his feet.

"No," Izunia stops him, offering a look of apology. "I need to clear my head."

Ignis shoots him a glance, disapproving. 

"You trusted _Chancellor Izunia_ enough to get on his ship, didn't you?" Izunia asks, stifling his laughter. "I'm sure he's not waiting in the shadows to murder me."

"We didn't have a _choice,_ " Gladio interjects, but Izunia could care less.

"There's _always_ a choice," he reins himself in from rebutting. "Make the one you can _live_ with, and take responsibility for the consequences of your actions."

-

Ardyn, _is,_ however, stalking him in the halls, as Izunia knew he would be. 

"You have been _avoiding_ me, Noctis," he purrs, suddenly close, crowding against him with the full advantage of his height and a wider frame.

Izunia breathes in the scent of him, the scourge he knows must burn under Ardyn's skin as power now waits beneath Izunia's own. "No, I—" Izunia makes his voice hesitant with fear, a little excitement? He _wants_ Ardyn to grip bruises on his skin. He knows, too, Noctis shares this particular predilection, though the boy would never admit it aloud.

"Do you regret what passed between us?" Ardyn touches his face with proprietary possessiveness. "You need not hold back now. No one will hear you _scream._ "

Izunia shudders, a display of helplessness. He is as a pinned butterfly under Ardyn's gaze.

This time it is Izunia who surges forth, kissing Ardyn like he cannot resist it. He throws his legs around Ardyn's waist to send him stumbling back into the opposite wall of the cluttered corridor. 

"I can't—stop thinking about—"

"Oh? Is _that_ what you were thinking of when you faced Titan," Ardyn asks with wry amusement. "It's a wonder you managed to subdue him then, or perhaps not. Perhaps you seduced him with your wiles, _Noct._ "

"Just— _fuck me,_ " Izunia demands. Ardyn is so full of words he cannot _stand_ it at times.

"As his majesty _commands,_ " Ardyn agrees. He doesn't let Izunia go, but he does manage to guide them back to his room. 

He throws Izunia down on the bed and looms over him with a look of _hunger_ worthy of a barbarian conqueror; it makes Izunia laugh in the quiet of his own contemplations. He affects a look of coy desire for Ardyn, turning his head like he can't bear to look again.

But Ardyn doesn't let it pass hence. He grips Izunia's chin in his hand and _makes_ him. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, _prince,_ " he murmurs. "I've seen it all already."

Izunia _does_ scream, because it's glorious. Ardyn makes _good_ on unspoken promises, as reliable as he always has been.

-

Ignis is judging him again, the only one who knows the truth of where Izunia's 'walk' took him, but he cares naught for the advisor's disdain.

" _You_ ride Ardyn's dick and tell me it's not worth a little treason," Izunia considers remarking. It makes him smile.


	4. feed him to the hungry rats for dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gods unto men.

Ardyn takes his leave of them at a conveniently placed chocobo post, and Izunia casts a lingering glance back at him striding once again onto his airship. Noctis has little experience in such matters; it would only be expected of him to form certain attachments.

Still, he knocks his shoulder against Ignis' in passing. "Leave _off,_ Specs."

-

"What do we do now?" Prompto asks once he's had his fill of crooning at the chocobos.

"The Regalia is certainly in the Empire's hands," Ignis adds.

 _Petty, Ardyn, petty,_ Izunia sighs. The Regalia is only a car, but Noctis is apparantly so lacking in human connections that he clings to the inanimate objects that represent them.

"We couldn't have taken it with us to Altissia anyway," Izunia decides, arranging his expression into a morose downturn of a frown. He pastes on a grin for Prompto, obviously forcing the edges of it. "Chocobos from here on out, yeah?"

"Woohoo!" Prompto cheers. "Last one to a chocobo washes the dishes after dinner tonight!"

"You're on!" Gladio agrees, outpacing Prompto almost immediately.

-

"Aw, _man,_ " Prompto laments when he himself turns out to be the last, even with his few seconds head start.

Izunia snorts. "Fair's fair, Prom," reaching over to ruffle his chocobo-like hair.

"Hey, hey!" Prompto protests. "Don't think I don't notice you petting me just like you were petting the chocobos earlier, _Noct._ "

"Hmm?" Izunia queries. " _I_ don't see a difference."

" _Nooooooct!_ " Prompto whines, trying to duck away from his roaming fingers.

Everyone dissolves into laughter.

-

"Look, it's Umbra!" Prompto calls out.

And so it _is._

Izunia chases after him with the same excited exuberance as the others—it's almost like being _home._

That feeling intensifies upon Gentiana's greeting, her visage so familiar it would make him ache, if he'd been one for sentiment. Izunia remembers as if only days have passed since he spied upon her whispering with Ardyn in the gardens.

 _Hmm,_ he thinks with a smile. _He was mine then, and he is yet mine now._

Izunia _had_ wondered whether the Astrals would be able to differentiate him from Noctis, but it seems not to be the case. Are they facets of one soul? he considers. Or is it merely the body that's of importance to the prophecy?

In any case, Izunia graces her with the deference due for a being of her stature, the more quickly for her to be on her way.

"Umbra!" he calls when that's taken care of, beckoning with his fingers.

He hugs the messenger to himself, running his hands through its luxuriant fur. He _has_ missed having a body; merely watching his descendants go about their trifling existences is fair amusement, but it lacks the tactile nature of handling matters with his own hands.

And Izunia does _so_ enjoy getting his hands dirty.

-

Ramuh's trial is absurdly simple, and he gives up his power with an even easier grace. Izunia feels it fill his veins with a languid lassitude, enough to devastate _worlds._

He holds on to consciousness this time, though he's giddy, stumbling punch-drunk into Prompto and nuzzling at his fluffy chocobo hair.

"Prom," Izunia whispers like a secret. "Prom, I _love_ you."

He feels Prompto go stock still against him, squawking just like a chocobo too.

"Come on, your highness." Gladio wrangles him with a snort, tugging him away from his fluffy chocobo cushion. "Let's get you back to civilization."

He throws Izunia over his shoulder and carries him out of the cave, Izunia giggling merrily the entire way.

-

"Any ideas for getting to Altissia?" Gladio inquires when he struggles awake the next morning.

Izunia raises a single solitary finger in Gladio's direction. 

He _feels_ like he's been flattened by the king of behemoths. The exhilaration of the day prior has fizzled away into an uncomfortable buzz that makes his skin ache, too-sensitive and as if every inch of it is bruised, sore to the touch.

"Mmmm _rph,_ " he growls in frustration.

Ignis silently hands him some painkiller, and Izunia swallows them dry.

Half an hour later, he's at least recovered enough to be able to sit up and glare at anyone looking in his direction. "We steal a Nif transport. They're always _stalking_ us, aren't they?"

Identical expressions of shock meet his gaze.

"Uh, Noct? Maybe you should get some more rest?" Prompto suggests. "It doesn't sound like you're thinking straight—"

"There's nothing wrong with my _brain,_ Prompto," Izunia cuts him off with a hiss. Unlike the _rest_ of you imbeciles, he barely refrains from appending. "We infiltrate one of their bases and fly it out."

"Not a bad plan," Ignis grants. "But none of us know how to _fly_ an imperial airship, Noct."

"How hard can it be?" Izunia retorts. He flops back on the bed and pulls the covers over his eyes again. "The fucking MTs can do it."

-

It all goes well until they get far enough into the base that they're practically _tripping_ over MTs with every step. "Change of plans," Izunia grits through his teeth. " _We take them all out._ "

"Roger that!" Prompto yells, before firing a barrage of bullets that nearly takes out their _own_ company.

" _Prompto!_ " Izunia snarls. "Find higher ground and learn to fucking aim!"

"Sorry—!" comes the much meeker reply.

There are just _so_ many of the MT units, not to mention bigger lumbering machines that emerge from on-base hangers to join the fray, that they're backed into a corner and losing ground quickly. 

"Everyone find cover!" Izunia commands, and then he _reaches._

The hum of power greets him almost instantly, the feel of a _god_ at his beck and call. 

He laughs with elation as an earth-shatteringly loud crack of lightning splits the skies open and then _slams_ into the ground. MT units fry all around him, their circuitry unable to handle the overload of electrical energy that sizzles through their systems, left broken and twitching on the ground in the wake of Ramuh's judgement.

Izunia breathes out slowly, a miasma of power still hanging in the air. 

He tastes it on his tongue, sweeter than sugar. This _is_ what is due him.

-

They make their way slowly through the base after that, picking through the rubble to see if there's anything they can add to their stock. 

Everyone looks up at Prompto's sudden gasp. "The _Regalia!_ "

He suppresses the immediate urge to roll his eyes. It's only a _car._ Pretenses must be kept however, and Izunia trails his fingers over the side of it, letting a small smile flicker over his face as if he's _pleased_ to be reunited with the hunk of metal alloy.

Certainly, that would be when Luna's fool of a brother makes a dramatic entrance.

Izunia is one finger-twitch away from calling down Ramuh's strike for a second time in minutes to end his pitiable waste of a life.

And then Ardyn _himself_ swans in, like an avatar of farcical humour. 

"We're not here for the Regalia," Izunia informs Ardyn once he reaches the end of his extended discourse.

"Oh?" Ardyn looks actually surprised by the fact.

How closely _were_ you stalking this poor hapless child, Izunia laughs silently to himself. "We're here for a _ship._ "

Ardyn and Ravus both appear dumbfounded at the revelation.

"Have you— _perchance_ —flown an airship before, Noctis?"

He shrugs, pretending a pretense of nonchalance. "How hard can it be?" he wonders with a vague smirk in Ardyn's direction. " _Nifs_ do it everyday."

Ardyn chuckles at the jibe, fingers on the brim of his unfashionable hat as if he's considering the situation. With a snap of his fingers, he declares: "As I am also making way to the fair isle of Altissia, perhaps it would behoove you to accept transport once again, to avoid the possibility of a tragic accident of fate." 

" _Chancellor—_ " Ravus hisses, every bit the drowned cat of his appearance.

Izunia's own retinue puts forth similar complaints, which he waves away with a quick dismissal. "It's not like we can _stop_ him from going to Altissia, and it won't kill us to accept one more ride."

"Won't it?" Gladio interjects.

"I would agree with Gladio's assessment—" Ignis tacks on a meaningful look at Izunia that encompasses the whole of what he thinks of the likely outcome of _Noctis_ spending any length of time in close quarters with _the Chancellor_.

Prompto, on the contrary, offers only a hesitant nod. "Whatever you think is best, Noct."

"We're _going,_ " Izunia declares, brooking no further argument.


	5. shoot him through the heart with a loaded pistol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance of ages.

The _wanting_ of something is always better than the having of it, Izunia knows. He and Ardyn have danced this dance before.

It begins with Ardyn's hand on the small of his back as they board the airship, secret and fleeting. Next would've come Izunia's coy little glance from beneath long lashes whence Ardyn shows them to their room. A flash of teeth, a flash of tongue. But, he doesn't forget that Noctis doesn't know the game, knows still less of of the language of personal entanglements.

Izunia must make _do._

He bites his lip, pacing the span of the room they've been left in as if he's plagued by restlessness. It's a different one than before, though decorated just as lavishly. An excess of excesses, Ardyn.

"I'm gonna—" Izunia motions at the door.

"Another _'walk,'_ your highness?" Ignis questions with a disapproving frown.

Izunia shrugs, putting on a show of caginess, then escapes out the door as if he just can't help himself. Does he care if Ignis tells the others of his little— _indiscretions?_ Perhaps he would _were_ he Noctis, but Izunia tires of playing the ingénue. He wonders: how much longer until Ardyn shows his hand? Beneath his kind careful composure a horrifying monster lurks, a monster of Izunia's _creation._ He awaits its reveal with keenest anticipation.

Izunia wanders the halls as if he's still uncertain, though he remembers the way to Ardyn's room. 

Noctis wouldn't, he knows. Noctis doesn't know a _great_ many things, though people have been talking around him his whole entire life. Izunia is almost angry on his _behalf._

"If it isn't a lost little _prince,_ " Ardyn interrupts Izunia's absent contemplations. The curve of his smile is wicked, dark and luscious.

Izunia affects a shiver of unease, taking what to appearances might look an involuntary half-step backwards. " _Ardyn,_ I—"

"Were you _not_ looking for me, Noctis?"

Izunia swallows, eyes opened wide. The game is this: he's been caught out. He wants, and he doesn't know how not to want. Ardyn is temptation itself, awful and undeniable. Izunia moans into the kiss like there isn't a thing in the _world_ he'd rather more than Ardyn's mouth on his, Ardyn's hands gripping deep bruises into his hips, dragging him closer. In this one moment, in all moments. Izunia clutches at the thick fabric of Ardyn's coat and surrenders himself to the tides of inevitability, letting himself be dragged _under._

-

Izunia doesn't get out of bed until they're _at_ Altissia. He lets Ardyn pull him back with drugging kisses and the siren call of too-clever hands again and again, as if he's put aside all sense of obligation and _duty._

"I should—" Izunia pretends reluctance, then folds immediately when Ardyn walks fingertips up the inside of his thigh.

Ardyn laughs cruelly into his ear. His fingers fit against bruises on Izunia's wrists. "What's the rush, _prince?_ " he murmurs, ending with a bite to the soft lobe. "Do not the gods themselves await your attendance?"

Izunia whines as Ardyn tugs him inexorably down onto his cock again, too-sore already yet still so desperately needy.

He remembers how they would spend entire days just like this in the long-ago past, bright sunshine filtering through the window as he lay back on the bed and begged for Ardyn's favours. _Radiant_ Ardyn, beloved of all the land until Izunia turned its people against him. 

It makes him smile, even now.

-

Izunia wakes out of a light doze when he feels the airship land, yawning. "Five mo' min'ses," he mumbles, shoving his face into a pillow.

He listens for Ardyn's movements in the background: getting dressed, making a call. It's a pity the sound of his voice into the phone is covered by the rumble of the ship's engine. 

Izunia mimes struggling into a sitting position, eyes still closed. 

If Ravus is also present, then the Imperial Army is surely positioned at the ready, or are on their way. The Oracle is rumoured also to be in attendance at Altissia—the entire _reason_ for Noctis' journey—unless she's already left. Izunia assumes she wouldn't have before she raised Leviathan, sleeping beneath the seas. There are so many variables and he cycles through each of them now, considering his next move. 

"Forgotten how to put your clothes back on, _Noct?_ " Ardyn teases him.

Izunia sniffs at the shirt that gets tossed at his face. He tugs it over his head, then shuffles into his outer garments, making sure to wince at appropriate intervals. Unexpectedly, he sneezes. 

"Ughhh," Izunia mumbles. He casts a longing look at the bedcovers.

"Altissia might be a seaside locale, but it _is_ chillier than Lucian lands." Ardyn's voice comes closer, and then something soft and warm is draped over Izunia's shoulders. "Don't catch cold, now."

He doesn't have to feign surprise as he blinks his eyes the rest of the way open. " _Oh,_ but won't you—be cold?" 

Ardyn laughs, looking strangely bereft without his customary scarf around his own shoulders, the appallingly patterned ends of it hanging over the front of his overcoat. " 'Tis only a scarf, your highness." He holds out his palm and Izunia obligingly settles his hand into it, wondering at Ardyn's playful mood. "Consider it a token of my _affections._ " Ardyn lifts his hand and brushes a kiss over Izunia's knuckles. 

"Uh, thanks?" Izunia pulls the hood up over his head, hiding his face in it. It _is_ warm, and it smells of Ardyn.

-

" _Noct!_ " three separate voices rebuke him when he shows up with Ardyn, wearing Ardyn's accoutrements, at the landing of the airship. 

Izunia thinks fondly of slitting each of their throats and watching the blood run, and the smile that forms doesn't even require faking. Regretfully, he sets those thoughts aside for a _later_ date, about to return to his _'friends'_ when Ardyn grabs him by the hand and yanks him back.

"One last thing, Noctis."

Izunia isn't expecting the kiss, but that doesn't stop him sinking into it, yielding to Ardyn's hand on the curve of his spine, dragging him in. He hears armaments being summoned and almost _laughs._ If Ardyn actually wanted him dead, there would be little they could do.

"It appears, _dear_ Noct, that your retainers have more of a care for your virtue than you yourself," Ardyn murmurs into his mouth.

Izunia bites his tongue, _actually_ laughing when Ardyn hisses at him like an injured cat. He soothes away the sting with his own tongue, fingers clenching on Ardyn's remaining scarf to pull him to a closer height. The kiss lasts beyond the bounds of decency, but hasn't that always been the way between them? Izunia wipes away the smears of Ardyn's blood from his own mouth after they separate.

"Until our paths next cross," Ardyn promises, taking Izunia's hand once more for a last kiss pressed to the back of it.

There's a malicious edge to Ardyn's smile that makes Izunia _burn_ with anticipation.


	6. slice his throat with a rusty cleaver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rituals of old.

"Aren't we going to see Princess Lunafreya?" Prompto asks while making a valiant attempt to keep up with Izunia's long striding steps, eating up the ground in quick paces.

"Nope," Izunia answers. "Waste of time."

"Throwing your fiancé over for the Chancellor of Niflheim, huh?" Gladio conjectures. "At least we know he won't stab us in the back. Oh _wait—_ "

Izunia halts the procession, spinning on his heel to face Gladio directly. 

Beside him, Prompto trips over his feet at the suddenly change of pace, almost falling flat on his face. 

"No, _fuckwit,_ " Izunia snarls, stabbing a finger into Gladio's chest. " _We'_ re going to summon Leviathan while the Imperial Army is still assembling, so whatever _they_ have planned won't interfere with _us._ If you'd rather sit this one out, _Gladio,_ I see a café right behind you where you may kick your feet up in comfort."

Everyone stares, including a few passer-bys who seem to think a fight is imminent.

"But don't we need an Oracle to summon Leviathan?" Prompto asks hesitantly.

"Have you made contact with the princess already?" Ignis is next to question.

"Wait, is _this_ why you were knocking boots with Ardyn?" Gladio appears flabbergasted. " _For troop movements?_ "

He waves Gladio off to address the more present concern. "We have something better than an Oracle," Izunia tells them with a vicious grin. He holds up an arm, gesturing at his own flesh. " _We_ have the blood of the _Chosen._ "

-

Izunia positions his retainers at the towering stone archway that frames the entranceway to Leviathan's altar. "Let _no one_ pass," he instructs them, before he makes his own way up the stairs. 

"We shall not fail you, your highness," Ignis vows.

"What he said," Prompto agrees, cocking a thumb at Ignis.

Gladio only nods, sword at the ready. 

Izunia returns the nod with solemness. Odds are high that not all of them will make it out of this alive, after all, and he's almost begun to feel a certain fondness for Noctis' motley little crew of friends and advisors.

-

Izunia slices a blade deep across the palm of his left hand and holds it over the water, letting the blood drip down. 

_An offering, Hydrean,_ he sings in the old tongue, and waits.

Her echoing horror of a voice comes soon after. _What fool mortal dares break the slumber of the tide?_

_No fool mortal, but the King of Kings. Give unto me your power, Goddess of the Seas._

Leviathan screams her fury, rising from the depths at last. _Oh,_ but does Izunia admire the old gods. Her form is grace itself as she unfurls herself to look contemptuously upon him, snarling his unworthiness.

"Trial by combat then?" Izunia inquires.

Leviathan shrieks again, snapping her jaws on the altar where he'd been standing mere moments before. 

He laughs, warp-striking into her, and the dance begins.

-

Izunia hasn't had so much fun in _eons,_ darting in and out again to avoid Leviathan's watery tendrils that threaten to rip him from the air. His swords cut into her side, though they are superficial injures at best for a creature of her being. 

Izunia lands back on the ruined altar just as a lone figure arrives running up the steps.

" _Noctis!_ " the Oracle hails him.

Izunia smiles a _true_ smile in return, all pretense fallen away. "Not _I,_ fair lady. Your beloved sleeps beneath the surface of his own skin."

Lunafreya looks confused. "I don't understand, what—?"

He bears her to the ground as Leviathan lashes out again, sending ever more of the stone crumbling away. 

"Your timing is _most_ fortuitous, Oracle," Izunia commends her, dragging Lunafreya back to her feet. He brings them to the altar's edge, Lunafreya not quite struggling in his hold as if she hasn't yet realized he bears her no particular affection. She is a piece on the board, as any other.

He _remains_ smiling as he slits her throat with his sword and holds her bleeding over the waters.

 _A sacrifice,_ he calls out. _For the Tide Mother._

Leviathan's screech this time is pleased, a melody of sated satisfaction. The water rises up around her in a multitude of swirling cyclones.

It _almost_ covers the sound of Ardyn's airship landing.

Izunia finally laughs as he's wished to since he'd first taken Noctis' body for his own as _his_ beloved descends the gangway of his ship. 

_Ardyn's_ expression is one of disbelieving incomprehension as he regards the scene before him: the Oracle's form, crumpled at the edge of the altar; Izunia, standing triumphant with a sword in his hand, dripping red blood; the Hydrean behind him, shimmering with all her unbequeathed might. No more smug grins for his sweetest love, watching the drama he's spent so many decades orchestrating fall altogether to pieces.

Leviathan's golden power is as waves that lap at Izunia's feet, more succulent than ambrosia. His eyes shutter closed, a low moan moving through his throat as he lets it wash over him.

When he opens them again, they are _crimson_ with potential.

"You _have_ kept my memory well, Ardyn _Izunia._ "


	7. what shall we do with a fallen saviour?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And back to the beginning.

Ardyn _screams_ as he charges directly at Izunia, the corruption residing beneath his skin spilling across the surface of it since Ardyn no longer cares to keep up the façade. Their swords meet with a clang that jars Izunia to the very bone, and he _has_ missed this.

No one has ever gotten his blood so hot as Ardyn does, whether it be in fucking or in fighting.

"You're _dead,_ " Ardyn howls at him, all traces of humanity gone from his visage. " _I watched you **die**!_ "

"And yet—" Izunia cycles through weapons to match Ardyn blow for blow. "Here I _be._ "

-

The contest of opposing wills ends as it only may, when Ardyn's many centuries of existence have made him _complacent._ Izunia remembers himself as if all things transpired only days past. 

"I _do_ love you, Ardyn," he croons at the once resplendent saviour of the people, kneeling at his feet with Izunia's sword at his throat. The blood that trickles _up_ his blade is black and twisting, but Izunia pays it no mind. He sighs and traces light fingertips over a face that is almost as familiar as his own, even with the corruption marring its once-flawless surface. "You are the only one who sees me _truly._ "

Ardyn snarls in outrage, making an attempt to surge to his feet, only for Izunia to strike him down once more with the power of _gods_ at his hands.

Izunia smiles sweetly at him. "Yet again do I hold your life in my palms, my heart of hearts." He tilts his head critically at the sight arrayed before him. "Not much of a sacrifice _now,_ though."

"Do as you _must,_ " Ardyn growls at him, eyes like drops of sunlight set in darkness.

Izunia kisses his fingers and presses them to Ardyn's lips. "A token of _my_ affections, dearest." He snatches them back before Ardyn can attempt to bite his hand off.

"Let us settle this at the _Crystal,_ " Izunia declares with a gravity that must please Ardyn's theatrical sensibilities.

He thrusts his truest sword through his beloved's chest, the familiar sensation of steel singing against bone like a different kind of homecoming, and follows with a bolt of lightning cast along the length of the gods-tempered metal. The skies thunder in the wake of his calling, and Ardyn is as dust on the wind.

-

"What was _that?_ " Gladio asks once Izunia's descended to the bottom of the altar's staircase with a jaunty little spring in his step.

He twirls in place gleefully, then throws his arms around Prompto's neck. It is _so_ good to have a body of his own again, and Leviathan's bequest still hums in his veins like the ebb and flow of the seas. He purrs into the bright tufts of Prompto's _un_ common hair. "The _Chancellor_ has finally shown his hand."

Ignis is watching him with an overly discerning eye. "And you as well?" 

Izunia laughs, joyfully unconcerned. "Well _met,_ advisor. I am not _your_ Lucian prince." 

"But still a Lucian prince—?" Ignis murmurs, brows creased in thought as if he is mentally reviewing every prince of the blood noted in Lucis' many _many_ history books.

Izunia, contented, throws him a bone. "They are all _my_ children, Iggy darling, for I was the _first_ to guard the stone."

Prompto gasps loudly, though he keeps himself steady like he's trying to accomodate Izunia using him as a pillow. What a good little chocobo. Izunia pats his feathers and nuzzles into the soft down of his neck. Perhaps a short nap wouldn't be amiss before he resumes his myriad plans.

-

Izunia wakes to a cold wind blowing, and knows _that_ sensation as well as any.

It _is_ Gentiana, and yet it is not.

"Will you grant me your power, Glacian?" he questions the Astral that reveals itself to him, uncurling himself from the seat on the train to stand before her—"Or shall I take it from you by _force._ "

Shiva looks to him with disdain on her pretty features. "A promise I have made, but you are a _false_ king still, Izunia."

He laughs. "And _so?_ "

The Glacian dissolves into a flurry of snow-petals, pinpricks of ice and cold on his skin where they land. Her power sinks into his skin like a chill that would stop the heart that beats in his chest and does not _belong_ to him, but for the power that already fills it.

-

They reach Zegnautus Keep in record time, speeding along in a metal caboose faster than any chocobo or Astral-summoned mode of transportation.

"How did you know that was our objective?" Izunia asks curiously, when the snows have cleared and the sun is shining brightly into the train cars once again. He gazes out the window marveling at how the world _has_ changed. Its landscape is one he no longer recognizes.

Ignis retorts: "You were mumbling about the Crystal in your sleep."

-

Izunia feels warmth settle over him like a blanket when Ardyn's voice issues from every speaker in the keep. It is as if his sweetest love is all around him, and Izunia pulls the ends of Ardyn's scarf that still hangs around his neck closer to himself, enjoying the thought of having him at hand one last time.

"Where to?" Gladio asks. The corridors are a maze.

"Forward, and _through,_ " Izunia commands.

Prompto looks queasy at the drab stone walls of the labyrinth hallways, the cells and the inhabitants within, but Izunia has long ago surmised his secret. 

"It's alright, Prom," he says with a kindness that is unfamiliar to him. He closes his hand around Prompto's wrist, and comes away with the length of leather that hides an ugly truth. "You're our ace in the hole here." 

" _Wha_ —Noct?"

Izunia tugs his hand up to an access panel, and it flashes green and opens.

"You're one of a _kind,_ Prompto."

-

The Crystal, like Izunia, has not changed in all its years, and Izunia feels a kinship with it that he has felt with little else. He turns to his advisor, and his shield, and his _friend_ that has accompanied him this long way, and slashes a sword across Ignis and Gladio's throats, bleeding them against the stone.

"I _am_ sorry," Izunia tells them—"but sacrifices require power, you see." 

He holds Gladio down again when he struggles, his blood so red and vibrant against the Crystal's pure white light. "And there is no greater power in the world than to be _loved._ "

When that's done, Izunia turns to the last of the Chosen's companions, frozen where he stands.

Prompto startles back as if suddenly remembering that he _can_ move, only to trip immediately over his own two feet; Izunia catches his shirt and keeps him upright.

"Noct, _please—_ " he pleads, eyes wide and wet with tears.

Izunia hushes him softly, and tugs him in closer. He leaves a kiss on Prompto's lips, and feels him shake like he is falling entirely to pieces.

"Ardyn loved _me,_ and it has sustained me through time _itself,_ " he murmurs. "Your sacrifice is worth more to Noctis than all the lives contained within this wide world." Izunia pushes him gently against the Crystal's surface.

"Keep me foremost in your thoughts, Prompto—" and Izunia spills the last of the Chosen's keepers' blood on the stone.

-

Izunia holds vigil until the last gasping breath passes through their lips, and then one more moment of silence to honor the sacrifices made in his name. He touches a hand to the Crystal and feels its pull. 

Izunia pulls _back._

"I _refuse,_ Bahamut," he speaks into its depths. "But I will have _your_ power."

The roar from from within shakes the Crystal in its chains, but Izunia claims the strength of four Astrals already; the Draconian is but one against them. _Izunia_ pulls, and the Crystal cracks against the strain. Blinding white light fills his vision, and then it breaks, spilling forth into Izunia's being which has prepared two thousand years to drink of its bounty. Bahamut's power manifests as bladed wings of light extending from his back.

He looks up when footsteps echo loudly across the platform.

"Shall I _beg_ you for the peace you have already once denied me?" Ardyn inquires of him. Gone is the vehement anger of before; only the deepest weariness remains.

"If you _do,_ I shall deny it to you once more," Izunia replies blithely.

"And what will you have of me, O _King_ of Kings?" Ardyn's voice echoes with a bitter edge.

Izunia tilts his head to one side, considering, then offers Ardyn his hand. "I _shall_ have you at my side for all eternity, Ardyn my _dear._ "

It is Ardyn that surrenders to inevitability this time, letting himself be dragged down into a kiss that feels outside the bounds of existence itself. Izunia can sense the darkness under his skin like a writhing sickness, and he could burn it all away, but then it wouldn't be _Ardyn,_ would it?


End file.
